


Under Covers and Darkness

by SerahSerah



Series: Fear is for the Weak [2]
Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: Age Play, Angst, BDSM, Comeplay, D/s, Dissociation, Don't Dissociate and Drive, Flashbacks, Hades house is bigger on the inside, Interrupted Aftercare, M/M, No one can tell time in the underworld, PTSD, Praise, Sexual Roleplay, Somnophilia, Spanking, Subdrop, Subspace, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-14 22:54:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28803153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerahSerah/pseuds/SerahSerah
Summary: Achilles and Patroclus are making a life together in death, rediscovering each other, playing favourite old games and finding unexpected new comforts. But even in the underworld, time does not stand still even for lovers.
Relationships: Achilles/Patroclus (Hades Video Game)
Series: Fear is for the Weak [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2111415
Comments: 14
Kudos: 87





	1. Chapter 1

Shades of the underworld had no need for sleep, or indeed any rest. In his time alone Patroclus had rarely slept. But now he took Achilles too bed every night (as in, the time Achilles didn’t have to work) and they would lie curled up together and sometimes sleep. It made them feel warm and safe and he knew that they both needed these periods of quiet closeness as much as they ever had in life.

But sometimes they needed other things more, and Patroclus very much counted that as one of the perks of their sleeping arrangement.

He woke in the early hours of the morning, the unchanging light of Elysium dimly filtering through the curtains that sectioned off their little sleeping nook. He was woken up by a soft, slick, rhythmic sound of skin on skin accompanied by muffled whimpers and sighs, and the feeling of Achilles trying not too jostle him too much as he lay half on top of him, desperately pleasuring himself.

Patroclus felt the heat spread through his body like the rising sun and he had to take a deep gasping breath to make space for the feeling of his body and cock quickly catch up to what was happening.

Achilles whimpered as if in pain and Patroclus looked down at him. Golden-lashed eyes were staring up at him huge and shy in a flushed face still half hidden between the drawn up blanket and his chest.

“Good morning,” Achilles said, his voice set high and boyish, deliberately. Patroclus knew that tone and the game Achilles was trying to play. The punch of sharp arousal that slammed into him made him drop his head back and groan up at the ceiling. He took a second to breathe and then looked back down. The golden lashes were blinking up at him again.

“Erastes,” Achilles whispered and this time Pat didn’t even get to turn his face away before he moaned out loud. Achilles voice was so sweet and submissive, his expression shy and fearful and Pats blood was rushing too his cock so fast it set his head spinning.

“Good morning boy,” he said, trying to keep his voice low and steady. The flush on Achilles’ pale cheeks deepened. “Now what do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m sorry sir, I couldn’t help it,” Achilles whimpered, and gods, that voice was going to kill Patroclus, “I woke up and I was all hard down there and it ached so.”

Patroclus reached down between them and found that Achilles hand, his arm and Pat’s own hip were soaking wet. He frowned at Achilles.

“You have made a mess boy,” he said sternly.

Achilles whined high and started moving his fist again.

“Ah ah!” Pat said, grabbed Achilles wrist and pulled it away from his cock. “That’s enough of that,” he said and Achilles squirmed.

“Please sir,” he begged and started pressing his cock clumsily against Pat’s hip, “it’s still hard and it hurts.”

“Hush boy,” Pat said gently and reached up with his clean hand to stroke Achilles’ tangled curls out of his face, “calm down my beloved. I will take care of you.”

Achilles turned his face and started pressing kisses to Pat’s hand and his hips stilled.

“I will show you how it is done, eromenos,” Pat said, “but you must also learn what you did wrong and that there must be consequences.”

“Yes sir,” Achilles whispered.

Pat shoved the blanket off both of them. It was warm in the nook, but the wetness between them was cold and made them both shiver.

“You made a mess, didn’t you,” Patroclus said. Achilles hid hid face against Pat’s shoulder and nodded.

“Now now, none of that,” he chided gently, “look at what you did.”

Achilles shook his head and whimpered. Patroclus used his clean hand to tangle into Achilles hair and, ignoring Achilles plaintive cry of arousal and shame, turned his head downwards towards the mess. He looked down himself and saw that there was even more of it than he had thought. He was almost impressed. Half-gods and their bodies, even as shades, were really something else.

“It happens to young boys sometimes,” Patroclus said, “mostly in their sleep. But you did this, didn’t you?”

Achilles whined and Pat gave his head a gentle shake. “Words, boy.”

“Yes sir. I woke up and I couldn’t stop myself.”

“Alright, alright. Now what do you think you should do.”

“I should clean it up sir,” Achilles said.

“Yes, good. Now get a rag and wet it,” Pat pointed at the water jugs on a shelf next to the bed. He let Achilles go, who rolled out of bed, careful not too spread the mess around more. Pat watched as he walked around the bed on unsteady feet, grabbed a rag and poured water on it. He let his eyes linger on the smooth muscle of Achilles hips and his swaying cock, still rock hard and rubbed red and raw. Pat drew his hand through the wet again and spread it on his own hard cock and when Achilles turned towards him again, he almost dropped the rag at the sight.

“Erastes?” He asked timidly and Patroclus smiled at him.

“It’s alright boy. I am not unaffected. Come back and clean us, and I will show you what to do.”  
Achilles climbed back on the bed and started wiping himself off, clearly making a show of it. He knelt beside Pat’s hips and started running the cloth over his thighs, around his groin and up his belly, pressing down and making his cock stand up higher.

Patroclus growled. “You are making me hungry boy,” he warned and Achilles preened, leaning back and showing himself off shamelessly. Patroclus couldn’t help but chuckle a bit. Achilles leaned forward and started wiping Pat down, looking him straight in the eye. The shyness he was trying to play was all but forgotten suddenly and Pat saw the depth of his own arousal mirrored in Achilles’ eyes together with love and other emotions too numerous and strong to even name. Achilles finished wiping him down and then tossed the rag out of bed. Suddenly, his eyes filled with tears.

“Oh, come here,” Pat said and spread his arms. Achilles cuddled up to his side, and buried his face in Pat’s neck and breathed in deep.

“Alright?” Pat asked gently in his normal voice and Achilles nodded.

“Better than alright my love,” he said and his voice was rough with emotions but also warm and so full of love and longing that it made Pat’s throat feel tight.

For a moment they just lay together and breathed, until Achilles started squirming again and whined a little to signal he wanted to keep playing. Patroclus chuckled. Only Achilles could hold so many feelings at once, he thought. He knew that the intensity sometimes hurt, and sometimes Achilles would initiate their games to get away from them. Patroclus just hoped he was doing the right thing.

“Alright then, eromenos,” he said, “you know what you did. Do you know what I must do to teach you not to make a mess like that again while I am asleep?”

Achilles took several deep breaths and Patroclus could feel his shoulders relax as he sunk back down into his role in the game.

“Well sir,” Achilles said, “No one would hear it now, if you-” he stopped himself and sat up. And then lay down sideways over Pat’s legs.

“Oh dear heart,” Pat whispered. Then he sat up and shuffled around until he had Achilles were he wanted him, laid out across his lap, stretching his ass up in the air and pressing his face into the sheets. Pat could see he was blushing because the red glow on his skin spread out all over neck and shoulders.

“Oh my beautiful boy,” he breathed with reverence and began stroking Achilles ass, gently at first, smoothing over his cheeks and down his thighs, spreading him out and warming the quivering skin.

“How many shall it be boy, hm?” He asked.

“I dunno…” Achilles mumbled into the sheets.

Patroclus stroked his hair and then dug his fingers into the curls, a promise.

“How many times did you spill, boy?”

Achilles whined and stretched his ass up higher into Pat’s hand. “Uhm, twice, sir” he said.

Pat groaned and tightened his hand in Achilles hair.

“Oh eromenos,” he said. “Alright, we will make it ten, five for each time, alright?”

Achilles nodded his head as best he could. Pat tightened his grip on Achilles hair roughly, and at the same time landed the first slap solidly on one cheek.

Achilles cried out, a sound of lust and want without even a trace of pain. When the cry faded, Pat struck him again, on the other cheek an Achilles gasped and groaned. Pat gave him a second to adjust, but kept his grip on his hair firm to keep him from squirming out of his lap.

“Please sir,” Achilles moaned.

Patroclus didn’t make him wait and struck him again, hard, three times in quick succession. Achilles wailed, as loud as he had rarely even dared in life and Patroclus felt the sound down to his core, the heat and lust in it making his cock throb against Achilles ribs.

“That was five. You are doing so very well.”

And then he struck again, and again. The sound of his hand connecting hard with skin rang in the small room together with Achilles gasping and keening. Five more times he struck and by the end, his hand was stinging. Achilles ass was bright red, his pale skin reacting as beautifully as ever to any attention.

When Pat was done he gripped first one cheek and then the other, kneading them to ease the sting. Achilles sobbed and squirmed.

“Good boy,” Patroclus cooed, “you did so well my boy.”

Achilles moaned and Patroclus dragged him up by his hair to look at him. Achilles was beautiful, his face bright red, tears on his cheeks and his eyes so glassy and unfocused, Pat knew he was barely even seeing him.

“You are my darling, most beautiful creature I have ever seen,” Pat continued and Achilles moaned helplessly. “Wonderful golden boy, my eromenos, my heart,” Pat continued and maneuvered Achilles onto his lap. Pat’s cock ached to see him like this, to be trusted like this.

“I love you, Achilles,” Pat mumbled into his ear, dropping the game they were playing. Achilles was beyond playing now, so deep down all he could even understand now was pleasure, Patroclus close to him and their shared love.

Achilles sat sideways on Pat’s legs, leaning against his chest and pressing his face against Pat’s neck. Then he started leaving little kisses there, and nibbled on the sensitive spot under Pat’s ear.

Pat sighed and took Achilles hand, guiding it to his own cock. Achilles fingers tightened on him and he groaned. No matter how far gone, Achilles’ clever fingers knew him so well, knew exactly how he liked to be touched.

“Don’t tease, my love,” Pat groaned, and Achilles hand picked up the pace. Pat reached over and took Achilles’ cock in hand. It was hot raw still, but Achilles moaned and Pat felt it jump in his hand. Achilles hand on him sped up further, no longer playing with him but pumping him fast and hard. Pat matched his pace and Achilles wailed against his neck.

“Perfect, Achilles, you are perfect for me,” Pat moaned. “Keep going, just like that, yes…”

His voice stuttered and broke as his climax barreled down on him. His back bowed up off the cushions and it slammed into him hard and fast, heat exploding out of his cock and he cried out as Achilles pumped him through it. He kept up his own hand moving with difficulty, but it was enough and soon after Achilles wail cracked and broke into a scream as wet heat spurted out over Pat’s hand and arm. Even on his third, Achilles still had enough to give to make a mess.

For a long while after they lay together and panted, their hearts hammering in time and the aftershocks jolting them.

Pat came back to himself first and reached for another rag that hung over the headboard. He wiped himself down and then cleaned Achilles carefully, though he still whimpered at the touch to his oversensitive cock. Pat chuckled gently and he felt Achilles smile against him.

“Hullo there,” he said and nudged Achilles head up to look at him. He was smiling, open and unguarded, and still more than a little bit unfocused. Pat couldn’t help but grin back.

“Good?” He asked and Achilles nodded.

“Hmmm, Pat…” Achilles mumbled and then stopped.

Suddenly his eyes widened and his whole body jerked in Pat’s arms. He shivered violently and opened his mouth as if to speak, but no sound came out. Cold dread kicked Patroclus in the chest and Achilles drew back.

Pat followed and took his head between his hands and held him firm.

“Achilles, talk to me,” he said, trying to sound as even and calm as he could manage. He saw wild panic in Achilles’ eyes and suddenly he knew what was happening.

“The Styx,” Achilles stammered out with ragged breaths, “I am called to the house. I have to go!”

“Achilles, Achilles,” Pat said, trying desperately to instill some calm in his lover. “Listen to me, listen to my voice.” Achilles met his eyes again, desperately holding on to his gaze, trying to match his breath and calm himself.

“It is going to be alright. Achilles Pelides, swift-footed aristos achaion, listen to my words. You are alright, you can do this.”

Achilles screwed his eyes shut and wrestled with his breathing. Patroclus held his face in his hands and tried to will his breaths to slow and his mind to stabilize in the present. He felt sick and cold seeing Achilles shiver and struggle, pulling himself together as fast as he could. Faster than he ever should have to do. Patroclus had not realized the time. This was his fault.

But it was no use, the Styx would not wait. He could only try and put Achilles together as fast as he could to make him ready for his shift in the house. Achilles opened his eyes again and took a deep breath. Then he cleared his throat and drew back.

“I’m alright, Pat, I’m fine,” he said and his voice sounded wrecked. But he stopped shaking and when he stood up out of the bed, his knees only wobbled a little bit.

“Let me help you,” Pat said and got up to, picking up pieces of Achilles armor to help him get dressed.

“I am so sorry my love,” he whispered as he fastened Achilles greaves to his legs.

“It’s alright,” Achilles said and his voice sounded more stable. “Don’t worry about me Pat, I will be back with you very soon. I promise.”

He had just fastened his cloak and stood up as straight as he could, forcing a smile. Pat reached out to stroke his cheek but already the shimmer of the Styx enveloped Achilles and Pat’s fingers touched nothing but the empty air.

Patroclus spun around and punched his fist hard into the wall.


	2. Chapter 2

As their shared home vanished around Achilles and the grim house of Hades took shape instead, he felt like the very floor he was standing on was dissolving. His heart was racing and he felt like he was falling, far and fast, hurtling towards some unseen ground.

He could still see Pat’s face before him, filled with frantic worry and fear, and he was falling away from him reaching out desperately, unable to reach, as in a nightmare.

But he knew that this was a nightmare without waking. He was already awake, the floor beneath him no more likely to break apart than before, and that he was being profoundly stupid. He had been pulled away from Pat many times by now, he had a job to do, and nothing they had been doing before was any kind of excuse to lose his composure like this.

As long as the prince was not around, his work did not demand much of him. All he had to do was stand still, watch the hall and not make a nuisance of himself. Surely that was not too much to ask. He stood up as straight as he could, breathed deep and focused on relaxing his face, so none of his roiling thoughts would show to anyone who happened to look his way.

But still his heart would not slow and the dizzy feeling in his head would not abate. His knees felt weak and he had to grip his spear with all his strength to keep from shaking. The shades milled around him and he could barely even hear a word they were saying. Their whispers flowed around him like their shapes, as undefined and unreal as his own body felt. He felt like anyone could look straight through him, just a weak, passing shade, standing between the cold eternal columns of the house of death.

Suddenly he felt the urge to move. The longer he stood the more he felt like he was dissolving. Occasional patrols would surely be part of guarding the house, so he started walking. It helped a little, the movement feeling more real and his feet connected firmly with the ground. The house did not sway or break but held him up. He walked around the corridors aimlessly, though he took care to walk fast and look straight ahead like he knew where he was going.

The house was larger than it first appeared to visitors and Achilles found he could turn many corners and still not end up where he thought he would be. But he also found that today he could keep track of his direction even less than usual. Every corner looked much the same, but after some time of wandering, patrolling, he came out of an opening into a small courtyard. It was paved with flat stones and had a little patch of sand in the middle. And against two outer walls stood, ominous and unmistakable, the infernal arms.

He had stumbled upon the Prince’s own Atrium, that hidden spot where he kept his weapons and trained, or prepared for his escape attempts. The place was silent now, and the blade Stygius was missing. So Zagreus was out in the underworld then, cutting his way towards the surface. The silence was eerie and Achilles felt like his ears were playing tricks on him. The weapons seemed to be whispering, wordlessly but incessantly, and before he even knew what he was doing, Achilles took a step closer. And then another.

Varatha stood before him, floating upright in the empty air. Exactly like he remembered it, not in the Prince’s hand but in his own. He knew the weight of it, the texture of its shaft, the heft of its swing. The sound it made when he slid it through the gaps in an enemy’s armor. How the blood ran down the shaft, over his hands, drenching him to the bone. It was hot suddenly in the courtyard, hot as under a desert sun and the air smelled like blood and fear and yellow sand and his ears rang with screams - screaming men, screaming horses, the scream of bronze weapons clashing, his own voice screaming, screaming his enemy’s name-

“Hello hello, what do you think you are doing?”

Achilles spun around, his spear suddenly in his hands, poised to strike. But before him lay not the battlefield, but the quiet little courtyard, now disturbed only by the presence of an animated skeleton, who cocked his head at Achilles.

“Yeah I wouldn’t touch those if I were you. They can really get into your head if you let them, will mess you up worse than having them swung at you, let me tell you…”

The skeleton was rambling and Achilles slowly lowered his weapon. He stumbled away, he had to get away from the here.

“Hero?” The skeleton called after him, “Are you alright?”

This was insane. He was going insane. He had never had a day like this, he had never lapsed on the job quite like this before. Shades were staring at him as he stumbled through the corridors, desperately trying to seem as normal as he could. Everyone would see he there was something wrong with him-

He turned around a corner and found himself suddenly back in the main hall. Terror gripped him as he heard Hades’ booming voice talking to some shade. Achilles could not afford to be seen like this. But he also could not afford to be missed.

He hurried past the waiting shades back to his post. To his great relief, Hades ignored him and he made it back without being accosted. Standing in his corner he barely had time to catch his breath when a murmur went up among the shades and there was a loud splash from the pool of Styx, followed by the dashing sound of the Prince of the Underworld running down the hall.

Achilles clenched his teeth. If the lad needed him, he would not let him down. He would be there for him, he would listen, he would not let his pounding heart or his sweating hands show, he would pull himself together-

Zagreus came into view in his typical jog, but instead of coming into the side hall he just waved to Achilles and sped on down towards his quarters.

Achilles sighed with relief and relaxed as the footfall faded. His head was still spinning and the fear was shaking him, clawing down deep into him to that spot he had tried so hard to bury, to forget. The spot that housed the animal rage that would come out if prodded hard enough, if the fear did not stop shaking him, if the shades did not top staring. He heard the wood of his spear creak in his grip, felt his fingernails dig in deep into his own palm. Then he heard the flaming feet rush back towards him, much faster than before.

“Achilles sir?”

Achilles jerked back with a start. Zagreus was standing before him, and he was staring too. He was staring at him with wide eyes and something like… concern? It was hard to make out. Achilles found it hard to even focus on his face.

“Yes, lad?” he managed, though his voice sounded nothing like his own to him.

Zagreus was talking, but the words seemed to bleed together and though they sounded familiar, Achilles found he could not understand a word that was being said. Zagreus was turning around and calling to someone, and then a second figure came up. Megaera, the fury. This was it, this was how they found him out-

Megaera was addressing him. Her clipped tone was strangely comforting, but still not enough to make sense. Achilles needed to get out, away. He heard more than saw Zagreus leave and then Hades' voice boomed out again in anger. The shades’ whispers reached a crescendo around him and he knew it was all about to end. They would come for him. Come for Patroclus, Pat-

He spun his spear up and ready. Megaera took several steps back, but did not seem alarmed.  
Then before he could let out the scream that had been building in his throat all day, all the lights went out.

Darkness swirled around him with a sound like whispering silk, enveloping him, shielding him from everyone’s eyes. An ancient, soft voice rang out in the blackness.  
“Rest your heart, loyal shade. The house will still need you when you are ready to return.”

The dark receded and Achilles found himself standing, spear ready and his face twisted into a vicious snarl, in the middle of Pat’s garden. Pat was standing right there, his face a mask of shock.  
Achilles fell to his knees.


	3. Chapter 3

Patroclus had heard tales about how Achilles had ended the war. How the war had ended Achilles.

Not that he had wanted to hear about it, but if something got all the shades in Elysium talking, even Patroclus could not entirely shut out their whispers. The aristos achaion is here. The best of the Greeks, fallen. Achilles was ushered into Elysium by Hades himself, but turned down the honor.

It was difficult to separate fact from fiction. Had Achilles killed ten thousand trojan men in his rage? Obviously not. Had he killed enough men to anger the gods, and then battled those gods? Probably not. Had he killed enough men to choke a river with corpses? Well. Maybe.

It was beyond doubt though he had wreaked such terrible destruction that the living and the dead would not stop talking about it. Patroclus had even heard a song or two about the rage of Achilles. He had spent too much of his time alone imagining that rage, the horror of it. He knew Achilles, his intensity and his temper. His imaginings were nothing against the glimpse he now caught of it.

It was early in the day when the darkness swirled through the garden, leaving Achilles standing there, spear drawn and his face a hideous mask of anger. It was just there for a second, before Achilles saw him. Their eyes met and before Patroclus could even move, the expression gave way to pain and Achilles pitched forward.

Pat rushed towards him but was too slow to catch him before his knees connected hard with the earth and his spear fell from his grip. Patroclus didn’t even have time to register his own panic as he dropped down beside Achilles and grabbed him around the shoulders, to hold him and to check him for injuries. What could possibly have happened at the house?

Achilles was breathing hard and not meeting his gaze. With some difficulty he managed to turn his head and look into his eyes. There was pain there, terrible pain, and fear. But no more anger. Patroclus did not know if this was an improvement. 

But he smothered his questions for now. He shifted and wrapped his arms around Achilles and then drew his cloak around both of them. He held on tight until finally, finally, Achilles turned and returned the embrace. So they sat in the grass in the middle of the garden, huddled together and holding on.

At last Achilles seemed to relax, his tense muscles loosening and his breaths slowed down.

“Patroclus,” he murmured.

“I’m here my love,” Pat whispered into Achilles’ golden hair. “Can you tell me what happened?”

Pat’s own spear was resting within reach against the wall of the house. If they had to fight, they would do so together. But Achilles didn’t seem to want to fight anymore.

“Nothing, Pat,” Achilles said, and groaned. “Nothing happened. I… my mind would not obey me. I found I could not escape the memories and I felt I was going insane. Lady Nyx, I believe she brought me here, before I did anything to cause catastrophe.”

“Oh Achilles,” Pat said. He didn’t know if probing deeper would help, but he had to know. “Is this… because of the game we played? In the morning?” 

Achilles shook his head. “No, it’s… not. I don’t know. It was there before we…” His voice grew so quiet Patroclus had to strain to even hear him. “I dreamed of the war and when I woke, I knew no other way to get away from it.”

Achilles curled in on himself against Pat’s chest as if he wanted to disappear. Pat’s chest hurt. They would have to talk about that. He didn’t know what to do with that. Achilles drew back and looked at him again. His eyes seemed clearer than before. More present, if no less anxious. 

“I fear I have ruined everything. I drew my spear in the house of hades, Patroclus…”

Pat huffed. “Well. We are both still here in Elysium, so I think Hades is not holding it against you. But enough, Achilles. Lets go inside, get more comfortable.”

Achilles nodded and they both got to their feet. He was making an effort to stand alone, though Pat saw in his eyes that he wanted to cling to him even as they walked back into the house. 

Once inside, Pat steered Achilles over onto the kline, and arranged both of them so that he could wrap him up in his arms and legs, his chest to Achilles back, and then cover them both with his cloak again. This was how Achilles loved to be held and Pat didn’t know what else to do. He did not usually feel so helpless when faced with Achilles’ emotions, strong as they were. They were a part of their life and that had always been the case. But this was different. 

Then Achilles shivered a bit in his arms. “The memories,” he whispered, “when they come to me in my dreams, or when I am waking, they are so strong sometimes. It is almost like I am back there. I feel the same things I felt then…” He trailed off weakly.

Pat kissed his head and hummed. “I don’t know how to help you my love,” He admitted. What could he even do?

“You are helping me Pat,” Achilles said and his voice was growing more steady. He sat up a bit and turned to Patroclus with a slight smile, “always you help me find myself again-”

He was interrupted by a sharp knock on their door. They both jumped in surprise. They had never had a visitor before. They traded glances and Patroclus got up while Achilles sat up straight on the kline.

Pat opened the door, fully prepared to shoo away any impertinent shade. But instead, he was greeted by Zagreus, who was bouncing on his feet and holding a basket covered by a cloth. 

“Hello sir!” He said, his usual cheer somewhat dampened by his obvious worry. “I came to see how Achilles was doing? And I brought some things, from me and from some others!”

Pat hesitated, but Achilles appeared behind him and laid a reassuring hand on his back. It’s alright. 

“It is kind of you to come lad,” he said to Zagreus, “please, come in.”

They both stepped out of the door and Zagreus entered, looking around with curiosity and some wonder.

“Wow,” he said, “I didn’t even know you had a house, let alone one so lovely!”

“We do,” Achilles answered, “and you are welcome in it.”

Zagreus beamed at him and Pat gestured for all of them to take a seat. He and Achilles sat down on one kline while Zagreus took the other, his expression sobering. He looked earnestly at Achilles, until Pat nudged him in the ribs.

“I am alright lad,” he said, “I am sorry to have caused… concern.” Pat knew that wasn’t his first choice of words. 

Zag just nodded. “No that’s alright! I hope you feel better soon! Father was his usual self about it, but Nyx put her foot down. You are to rest, she says, until you are prepared to come back to us. In the meantime, I bring you this!”

He drew back the cloth from the basket, and one by one took out items and layed them out on the little by-table.

First came an oblong parcel, wrapped in cloth. “This is from Eurydice. It’s a cake! Don’t ask me what’s in it, but she said she makes it when Orpheus is feeling down.”

Next he took out several small vials. “These are perfume oils. Sandalwood, Citrus and Pine. Don’t ask me what any of that is, but Megaera sends them. She says that if you feel unreal, or like you are dissolving, smell them. It helps.”

Pat looked at Achilles in puzzlement, but he took up one of the vials thoughtfully, opened it and sniffed. Then he nodded slowly.

“Alright,” Zag continued, “Last but not least: Behold!”

He drew out a small stuffed toy, an ant. It looked normal enough, but something about it drew the eye in a strange way. It felt… comforting. 

“This is a cthonic companion.” Zag explained. “Nyx herself made it for both of you. You are connected to it, and it to you. No matter where you are in the underworld, you can always find your way to where it is. That way, you will never lose each other.”

Zagreus put the empty basket down on the floor and beamed at them proudly. Patroclus could not help a broad smile and Achilles was staring, stunned.

“I… I don’t know what to say, lad” he said, but Zagreus waved him off.

“No need sir. Its the least we can do, for all you have done for us!” He said and got up. “Now if you will excuse me, I owe Theseus some payback.”

Pat laughed and got up with Achilles to bring Zagreus to the door. “You do that stranger, show him no mercy.”

Zagreus stepped through the door, waved and then dashed away, his feet sparking and leaving smoldering footprints behind. Patroclus and Achilles stood in the door and watched him go.

“It seems,” Pat said after a long pause, “that we are not nearly as alone as once we were.”

Achilles took his hand and smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaand that's that for now!  
> Thank you for reading, commenting and kudosing! :)


End file.
